


A Dragon In Ice

by lyn452



Series: Jonerys Valentine Event 2020 - Leather and Lace Edition [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Cunnilingus, F/M, Forbidden Love, No Rebellion, Politics, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22740001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyn452/pseuds/lyn452
Summary: Lace | Starcrossed/Forbidden Love - Princesses do not consort with bastards, but there was just something about Jon Snow that caught Daenerys Targaryen’s eye
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: Jonerys Valentine Event 2020 - Leather and Lace Edition [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634287
Comments: 53
Kudos: 206





	A Dragon In Ice

Daenerys had begged to go on this trip. She’d begged Tywin Lannister and her brother to accompany him on this trip. She wanted to see the world, but she would settle for Westeros. So she knew she couldn’t complain now. But it was boring. Every keep and castle seemed the same, every lord and lady blended together in her mind. 

And the North was so cold.

She pulled the white lion’s fur that had been imported from Essos (a gift from Viserys, in one of his generous moods) closer to her body. She wanted to go home. She wanted to sit by a fire and warm up. Daenerys had thought she wanted to see snow, but now that she was constantly surrounded by it, she hated it. Her southern dragon’s blood was not built for this climate.

It didn’t help that this was the final stop on what was a too long trip. It started with Storm’s End where she was thrown into Renly Baratheon’s path and never allowed to leave it. She had, foolishly, thought that she really had been invited on this trip to broaden her horizons and see the entirety of the kingdoms her family ruled. In reality, this was a trip for her to seek a husband. Loras Tyrell, Quentyn Martell, Robin Arryn, Tyrion Lannister, Edmure Tully, and now, finally, Robb Stark. She was sick of them all. 

Daenerys dreamed of dragons and foreign lands and adventures. If sons were the only ones fit to rule, then why were daughters held to higher standards? Daenerys was expected to do her duty without a word of protest while Viserys did all sorts of unspeakable things to palace servants and town whores while refusing to anything of worth, despite his wife at home, and no one said a word. His marriage to Cersei Lannister didn’t exactly make her want to rush into one of her own. Both participants seemed to be absolutely miserable.

Daenerys didn’t really expect life to be happy or fair, but it would be nice if it could even out just a little. She couldn’t even stare out the window, as they were covered for her safety. In her darker moods, Daenerys wondered if it would be so bad to die. It would be an escape if nothing else. 

When they finally reached Winterfell, Daenerys was in no mood for the pleasantries that would be required from her and acting out the courtly manners of a lord greeting his royal masters. She just wanted to go to her strange room and sit near a burning fireplace until the cold left her. She didn’t want to speak to anyone or be spoken to.

But she knew such things were not to be, and slipped on her royal mask as the door to the carriage opened. She preferred to ride horses than sit in carriages, but it had been insisted on for this trip for her safety and her ladylike image that she ride in a covered wagon. Like most everything in her life, Daenerys had little say and her preferences weren’t accounted for in the decision. 

She saw what she assumed was the Stark family lined up before her brother, bowing respectfully. Her eyes sought out the eldest son, the one she may be expected to marry and would spend all her time with here.

They found another young man instead. He was with the family, but he was behind them and if he’d bowed he hadn’t kept it as long as the Starks. Daenerys’ breath caught as she looked at his dark eyes. He matched the descriptions she’d heard about the Stark looks, but she knew, if only by instinct, that this man was no Stark.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Rhaegar presented her formally to the master of the keep, Ned Stark. The introductions continued and Daenerys acted the part of princess to perfection. She didn’t miss Robb Stark’s obviously sweeping look over her figure and the hint of lust that reached his eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than the obvious disinterest Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell had displayed. Sansa Stark seemed the most excited to meet her, and Daenerys tried to match the girl’s positive feelings. She was used to other women using her friendship to get what they wanted though, and it was hard not to let cynicism taint any potential friendships. Though Sansa Stark, to her credit, at least seemed sincere.

When the introductions concluded, Rhaegar bent to whisper his desire to visit the crypts, but Daenerys stopped him. “What about the rest?” She waved a hand over those behind the Stark family, including the handsome stranger she noticed first.

Her brother gave her a look of curiosity, probably because this was the first time she’d requested more introductions, but he indulged her, asking Ned to continue. 

There was the master at arms, the maester, the septa, the Greyjoy hostage, and finally, Jon Snow. Daenerys let her eyes sweep over him. Gods, but he was attractive, and such sadness in his eyes. They reminded her of Rhaegar, but his sorrowful demeanor didn’t sadden her the way her brother’s did, instead she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and comfort this Jon Snow. Daenerys didn’t let herself linger though and allowed Robb Stark to escort her to her room here when the time came for the group to separate. Oddly, her brother persisted in asking to see the crypts, but Rhaegar could be an odd, melancholy man at times. Ned Stark consented to take him, and only Ser Arthur Dayne joined them though Jon Connington tried to accompany them as well.

Robb Stark was a pleasant enough man, who made polite discussion with her, as any well-raised lord’s son would. Daenerys wasn’t impressed, but she wasn’t put off either. Still, she was grateful when they reached the oak door of her room. She wanted to be alone by a fire.

She wanted to think of the sorrowful eyes of this young man’s bastard brother. 

“May I have the honor of escorting you to tonight’s feast?”

Daenerys knew it was coming, but she still had to repress the sigh. She was sick of feasts and dances with lords’ sons. She let nothing reach her face though as she replied politely, “Of course, Lord Stark. Thank you for escorting me.”

Daenerys ignored the wide grin on Robb Stark’s face, still thinking about the grim lines of Jon Snow’s pretty face. 

* * *

The feast was nothing special. The company was polite and Daenerys had been amused watching Sansa and Arya fight. It might have been nice to have a sister, she thought. But her eyes kept drifting to the back of the hall, where the bastard, the shame of the Stark family, sat alone. She kept it from being obvious, but Daenerys did notice that Jon Snow seemed to be watching her as well.

Interesting, she thought.

When Robb invited her for the first dance, she accepted with a royal smile. Daenerys danced beautifully, having been trained since she was a girl. She preferred horseback riding to dancing, but always begged to dance when the septa tried to teach her needlework. Rhaegar’s wife Elia had called her “a little hop toad, never able to keep still.” 

She looked at her brother, who was bent over talking to Ned Stark. Both men appeared to be frowning, which made Daenerys frown as well. What could they be discussing?

The dance ended and Daenerys immediately replaced her frown with a smile for Robb Stark. He seemed to be staring at her, looking her up and down. She knew the young lord quite liked what he saw.

Daenerys resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was far too used to such a look. Robb’s uncle, Edmure, being the last lord to ogle her. Sometimes she wondered if it might be easier to just marry someone so at least the politer lords would pretend not to stare at her and picture her naked. 

“Would you like another dance? I can get the band to play anything you’d like, your grace.”

Daenerys looked at Robb Stark’s eager eyes and thought that at least this man would treat her well. But she felt the pull of her own eyes to back his brother and knew she could never marry the future lord of the north. It would be too tempting. 

“Thank you, my lord, but I’m quite tired. It’s been a long day for me, after all.” She lowered her eyes in the way she’d been taught at a young age, the way all highborn ladies were expected. 

“Then let me escort you back to your chambers,” Robb said a little too eagerly.

Daenerys smiled regretfully, “I would like that, but I believe my brother planned to speak to you after he finished talking with your father.” It was a lie, but one Daenerys had used several times on this trip. If Rhaegar really wanted to marry her to one of these highborn lords, she figured he could do the work for it.

She curtsied and then walked out of the busy dining hall. Part of her wanted to return to her warm room, but another part of her wanted to explore this place on her own. Granted Daenerys was rarely truly alone, as she knew one of the kingsguard was following behind, but Ser Jonothor Darry was as indulgent with her as his brother. She knew he could be trusted. 

In the light of the moon rather than the sun, Daenerys was not overwhelmed by the brightness of the snow in Winterfell. It looked much prettier in a soft light. It was still too cold for her liking, but she finally saw the beauty of the North.

A distant sound of thwacking drew her attention and Daenerys made her way towards it. Her septas had always scolded her for her curious nature, but she ignored them. She made her way to what ended up being the training yard. The sound was a young man whacking a wooden dummy with his practice sword as hard as he could.

Daenerys watched for a moment, enjoying a chance to observe Jon Snow with no one watching her. She didn’t have to show little to no interest in the bastard beneath her station. Instead she could notice how pretty he was, how strong he must be with the way the dummy bent back, and how he was the first man she really had any interest in getting to know better. Of course, there wasn’t a scenario in which she would be allowed to have any interest in Jon Snow, but Daenerys never much cared for the rules of society and her place within them. 

She stepped forward, her chin jutted and asked, “Is it common practice in the north to leave a feast in honor of royal guests to whack a stuffed man silly?”

He stopped swinging the wooden sword, but he was still breathing hard. Daenerys could tell she’d surprised him. His eyes shot around as though he wasn’t sure what to do. He quickly fell to a knee, leaning heavily on his sword. “Your grace,” Jon grumbled in that northern brogue.

Daenerys kept her smile small despite her amusement. Unwatched, she observed Jon Snow more closely. Gods, but he was an attractive man. He must have gotten warm from the practice as he wasn’t as heavily dressed as usual, and she could see the frame of muscles those furs hid. “Rise, Jon Snow,” she instructed. 

He did so almost reluctantly. He kept glancing at her, as though she made him nervous. It amused Daenerys even more. How could she make anyone nervous? She looked to the battered dummy, “So what was the crime to deserve such a rough beating?”

Daenerys walked further into the yard, clearly making Jon Snow nervous, as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I must practice my sword work, keep in shape. I’ll be leaving for the Night’s Watch with my Uncle Benjen soon.”

For some unknown reason, the thought made Daenerys sad. That this man would end up there, without a wife or family of his own. “I’ve never seen the Wall, but my great-uncle is there.” At Jon’s confused look, she explained, “Aemon Targaryen has served as the Maester at the Wall for generations. He’s a wise and kind old man, who likes to indulge the foolish family who write to him.”

Daenerys smiled at the thought of the letters she’d been exchanging with Aemon since she insisted after she caught Rhaegar reading one from him. Suddenly she had an irresistible urge to visit the man in person. Aemon was blind, but she would see him. 

As a bonus, she might get more time with this intriguing, handsome young man.

Jon coughed and looked away, “You shouldn’t be seen with me. You’re a royal princess. I’m a bastard.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes, “I grew up in King’s Landing, Lord Snow, I know how to protect my reputation just fine.” 

“I’m not a lord, your grace,” Jon said.

“Perhaps you should train for a knighthood rather than a lonely life at the Wall then. You could be Ser Snow.”

Jon snorted. “Right I’ll never be good enough for that.”

“You already appear to be better than most. Most lords' sons are.” Her eyes looked him up and down and she saw the look of disbelief on his face. “I may not practice swordplay, but I am surrounded by the best swordsmen in the kingdom. I know what to look for. Ser Wihelm Darry always tells his men that a quick blade and powerful blows are the most important skills for every knight to learn. That if you want to be the best, you must master every stroke you know rather than every move you can do.”

Daenerys turned and noticed that Jon had been staring at her during her little speech. She discovered a hidden benefit to the cold temperatures then, her already rosey cheeks hid the blush that crept up at his looking at her so intently. “Perhaps you should have been a swordswoman, your grace. Your ancestors were.”

“They also rode dragons,” Daenerys said. She’d always dreamed of doing such a thing. But the dragons were long gone. 

“My sister wants to be a swordswoman.”

“Arya?” Daenerys asked, unable to imagine the pretty Sansa wanting to do such a thing. Jon nodded. “Proper ladies aren’t supposed to do such things.”

“Northerners never had much use for proper ladies.”

Daenerys laughed at the comment and her stomach clenched when she saw how Jon’s eyes brightened at her laughter. Why did she feel more for this man than all the highborn lords she was supposed to be interested in combined?

Perhaps the gods really were cruel cunts, as her brother often complained. She supposed even idiots were right about some things. 

Daenerys wanted to linger, wanted to keep speaking with this man, but she knew there was always a risk of Robb or her brother checking up on her in her room. If she wasn’t there, it would be hard to explain where she’d been. So she walked up to Jon, who didn’t move away, only fidgeted at her closeness. She pushed back a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear. “Thank you for the laugh, Jon Snow,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome, your grace,” that soft northern brogue made Daenerys shiver from more than just the cold.

She walked away, feeling a little too much. Her thoughts consumed with the bastard boy of Winterfell. 

“Be careful with that one, princess,” Ser Jonothor said, startling Daenerys. She had forgotten he was there. Jonothor had served her family faithfully since before her birth and while he was only one of the Kingsguards in rotation for her protection, she often found herself most drawn to him and Ser Barristan. Not that she didn’t like the others, but it was hard not to have favorites. After all, Ser Dayne was clearly among her brother’s closest friends. 

She recovered and straightened herself to her full, if still insubstantial, height. “Don’t give me that Riverland nonsense about bastard blood, Ser Jonothor.”

“Most of the Seven Kingdoms have similar thoughts about bastards, your grace, but I’m referring to the fact that many wars have been fought because a royal woman fell in love with the wrong man, including Daenerys Targaryen.” He softened and touched her arm. “Be careful, Dany.” 

She knew he was just looking out for her, as he always did. House Darry was as loyal as houses came. She put her hand over his and said, “I appreciate your concern, Lord Darry, but I am not so foolish.”

He smiled, that fatherly Darry smile she knew well, “I wonder how many have said that before you, before then doing something foolish?”

She smiled back at him teasingly, “Speaking from personal experience, Sir Darry?”

“No, your grace. I’m just an old man now who occasionally wonders about the life he didn’t live.”

She thought about arguing that he wasn’t old, but he looked it at the moment. Daenerys had known Jonothor all her life. She had heard stories of his childhood and adventures as a knight. She’d seen him and Wihelm fight like the brothers they were, so that it was so easy to picture how they might have been as boys in their father’s house. But she had never seen this side of him before. “Do you regret it?” Daenerys asked softly. 

“No, I am honored to serve House Targaryen. I think it’s just natural for every man to picture his son from time to time.” He gave her a small reassuring smile that comforted Daenerys as it always did. “Whether he exists or not.” 

She took his arm in hers, letting him properly escort her. “And House Targaryen is proud to have you, Sir Darry.”

She didn’t look at his face, but she could feel the pride and warmth rolling off one of her favorite knights. 

He then ruined the moment by commenting, “Plus that bastard has terrible form in his sword work. Wilhelm would tear him apart.” 

* * *

Jon Connington was raving again, and Daenerys looked to the nearly empty skin of the potent northern ale as a reason why. “We should have never left King’s Landing. You know as well as I do that lion cannot be trusted.” 

Rhaegar seemed tired, Daenerys noted. “Sir Barristan will keep him in line. The old bull has more power than he realizes in the court. Besides, Elia won’t let him get away with anything, she’s still convinced the Lannisters had some role in the deaths of our daughter and son.” His indigo eyes looked off into the distance as though he could see some vision the rest of them were blind to. He seemed so distracted here in Winterfell. Daenerys wondered what it was that made her brother lost here in a way she’d never seen him before. 

He’d arranged a masterful coup before Daenerys had even been born at a tournament at Harrenhal. One that had gotten all the major houses to side with Rhaegar as he pushed his father aside. Of course, Aerys hadn’t been content to go quietly, but some carefully placed drugs had made it easier.

Eventually Jaime Lannister’s sword silenced her father for good. While Rhaegar could never publicly thank the former Kingsguard, and despite the pressure from Lord Tywin, Rhaegar had sent Jaime to the Wall. To keep Tywin happy, Rhaegar then married Viserys to Cersei, which made no one happy. 

Arthur Dayne interrupted more of Connington’s rant. “Tywin has more power now than he ever had before. His family is one of the most powerful in the Seven Kingdoms.” 

“He wants his family on the throne.”

“His daughter is married to a prince and his grandchild is set to be the next king. What more could he want?”

“The crown upon his own head.”

Arthur snorted. “He doesn’t want that.”

“You might not see it, but I do. You’re just a knight. What do you know of court politics and ambition?” 

Rhaegar stepped in then, “That’s enough. I hear your concerns, Jon, but Arthur is right too. Tywin has done much for himself and his family, and he wouldn’t want the throne. He much prefers to be the power behind it rather than bearing the weight of the thing himself.” Rhaegar touched the crown as if to remove it, but it stayed where it was. 

It wasn’t a new thing to see Rhaegar between his two closest friends and advisors, Ser Dayne and Lord Connington. It was almost boring for Daenerys to watch. But it still made her wonder just how heavy the crown sat upon her brother’s head. He seemed so tired and sad lately. Daenerys had hoped this trip would brighten his spirits and give him some reprieve from his responsibilities, but if anything it only dampened his moods further.

Daenerys thought about what they were arguing about. It was true that the Lannisters coveted the throne, wanted it for themselves. Tywin was too clever to be obvious, and he seemed to admire Rhaegar enough to not fully go against him. But with Aegon and Rhaenys gone, and Viserys next in line for the throne with his son Joffery following him. Daenerys shuddered at the thought and hoped Rhaegar would live a long life, one that went longer then both those monsters.

But then who would follow after him? Herself, she realized if Joffrey didn’t have a child. But Cersei Lannister would never allow herself to lose that much power. Daenerys couldn’t leave the kingdom in that woman’s hands. She would have to force the issue. A war between her and Cersei would be bloody and devastating, even if she won. So what did she want? Daenerys thought of the future, becoming absorbed in the kind of politicking and maneuvering that came naturally to anyone born in the Red Keep. 

Almost distantly, Daenerys heard the conversation shift to when they were planning to leave. Connington was trying for as soon as possible, which Ser Dayne had no objection to, but Rhaegar seemed to want to linger. Arthur’s eyes narrowed, “Why would you want to stay here?”

“Perhaps I just enjoy the company of Ned Stark.”

An ugly grimace appeared on both Arthur and Jon’s faces. “I don’t trust him,” Arthur said.

Rhaegar nearly sighed. “Ned Stark is considered the most honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Honorable,” Arthur snorted. “He could end all the rumors about my sister with a word, but he stays silent.”

“You said you stay quiet about that. You promised.”

“And I have.” Still Ser Dayne grumbled, “Man’s best friend is Robert Baratheon. He went out fucked a tavern wench with his buddy, got her pregnant, no need for all the mystery.” 

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Arthur gave Rhaegar a pointed look, “You should understand that the madness of love can carry even good men away.”

Rhaegar backed down, looking embarrassed. Daenerys didn’t understand why. She didn’t understand most of that exchange actually. Before she could question any of it, Rhaegar announced, “We’ll leave in a week. We’ll go to White Harbor and then sail home to King’s Landing.”

This seemed to please everyone, but Daenerys spoke up, “I want to see the Wall.”

Everyone turned to look at her, various looks of surprise on their faces. Except for Ser Darry who looked equal amounts of amused and concerned. But Daenerys decided to stay stubborn on the point, “I want to see the Wall and meet Aemon.”

Jon Connington spoke first, “The Wall is no place for a lady. Full of rapists and murderers.”

“Are you suggesting that Lord Commander Lannister cannot control his own men? He was a kingsguard once, do you think his loyalty and skill would be so little?”

The kingsguard comment made Ser Dayne back down though he still didn’t look happy at the suggestion. Lord Connington looked to Rhaegar, as he always did. 

Her brother looked thoughtful. “It would be nice to visit with Aemon, but I don’t want you to go alone. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“I’ll go with her,” Ser Darry volunteered. “Benjen Stark is back from the Wall and set to return soon, we can join him. I think we’ll be able to handle any trouble that might happen, and we can leave from East Watch by the Sea.”

Daenerys was a little surprised by the support after Jonothor’s warning, but she wasn’t about to turn it down. Reluctantly, Rhaegar nodded. “Your majesty…” Lord Connington began to protest, but Rhaegar cut him off, standing and leaving, putting an end to the subject.

Daenerys felt something in her warm, like she’d gotten her way on something important. Only Jon Connington didn’t follow Rhaegar out, and blocked Daenerys from leaving. She was surprised. Rhaegar’s friend rarely wanted anything to do with her, or any woman for that matter.

“I know what you’re doing,” he snarled and Daenerys wondered if he actually did. “You’re going to speak with Aemon about ruling, so that you can steal Viserys’ claim for yourself. Perhaps even getting rid of your older brother as well, if he doesn’t pass quickly enough for you.”

Daenerys nearly laughed at how wrong he was, but kept it to a small smile instead. “If only that was my nefarious plan. You are getting too paranoid, Lord Connington. Seeing shadows of enemies where they don’t exist. They say my father was like that in the end.”

She could tell from his dark look that he wanted to slap her. If she wasn’t Rhaegar’s blood, he probably would have. “Listen here, you bitch, I will never let anything happen to my king. I protected him from his crazy father and I will save him from everything else that might harm him.”

“I am no threat to him,” Daenerys tried to explain patiently. 

“I will decide what threatens him for myself. I’ve seen you. Your manipulations of men. Your growing beauty. Soon you’ll start whoring yourself out. You may even decide that you might wield power better for yourself once you pick a husband."

Daenerys clamped down on the Targaryen anger that threatened to consume her, and she smiled sweetly and leaned over to quietly tell him, “I’m surprised you aren’t making a bid for my hand, Lord Connington. After all, marrying me is the closest you’ll ever get to Rhaegar’s bed.”

She left him gaping with a wicked grin on her face. 

* * *

Once away from the royal party, Daenerys was allowed to ride her own horse, which thrilled her. Even better, only Jon really bothered to keep up with her wild riding, so almost all of her time was spent with him as they made their way to the Wall.

They talked and she learned much from the quiet young man, about his life, his thoughts and his hopes. She grew more enamored with him the more she learned, which she knew would be a problem, but she was young. And didn’t quite understand the power this growing love might hold over her, didn’t even understand that that was what she was feeling -- she was falling in love.

All Daenerys knew was that she cared for him more than anyone else. She respected him and wanted him. And she decided that tonight was the night that she would have them. There were only a few days from the Wall, and she figured it would be harder to make happen under more eyes.

She waited for everyone to sleep, except for Jonothor, who she knew was keeping watch. But she tracked his movements from the previous nights and knew when it would be safe to sneak out of her tent and into Jon’s. 

He was either already awake or sleeping fitfully as he bolted up at her entrance. He reached for his sword but then questioned, “Dany?”

She loved that he called her that now. Daenerys closed the tent flaps, sealing them behind her before going to Jon’s bed. She knelt down beside him, her eyes drawn to his bare chest. It was a beautiful sight. 

Jon seemed to grow uncomfortable and pulled his furs up to cover himself, but Daenerys gently requested, “Please don’t.”

Jon didn’t move any further. His eyes darted as he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Daenerys’ eyes met his and she could see that he already knew the truth. “Don’t you already know?”

Jon bit his lip and looked away, “You should leave.”

“I don’t want to,” Daenerys scooted a bit closer to him. “I don’t want to leave you ever.” His eyes flashed back to hers. “I know my duties and yours mean that we must part, but why can’t we have one night? Just one to ourselves? To Jon and Dany rather than a man of the Night’s Watch and a Royal Princess?” 

“We cannot deny who we are, we…” Daenerys cut off any further objections with her lips. Kissing Jon felt amazing, and she could tell despite his protests, Jon wanted this just as badly as her. They kissed for a long moment though it stayed somewhat chaste, neither of them even really holding the other close. 

When they parted, Daenerys said, “I want to give you a lovely parting gift Jon. The best gift I can give.” She leaned back and parted her legs to tell him without voicing what she meant. 

Jon’s eyes stared at what rested between her legs. But he continued to protest, his voice anguished, “What if I get you pregnant?”

Daenerys smiled at his worry for her. This sweet, caring man. “Then I’ll marry Renly Baratheon and say it’s his.” The two men looked enough alike, and gods knew Renly Baratheon was never going to get her with child himself. It would solve several problems at once, including putting the former conflict between their houses behind them, as Robert Baratheon had always suspected Rhaegar of showing too much interest in his intended before her untimely death. Renly might even be happy that he could have a child without having to complete any acts to get her with one. (Loras could join the Kingsguard as well, then both would have their lovers nearby. It would be a happier marriage than most in her family.)

Jon’s look of worry turned to anger, but she didn’t let him stew on reality. Not tonight. Tonight was not a place for Westeros or responsibilities or any of it. 

She leaned forward to kiss Jon again, partly to distract him. He still seemed reluctant, so Daenerys pulled back. “This isn’t a royal command, Jon. If you don’t want me, I’ll go,” Daenerys said, her heart breaking a bit at the thought of him rejecting her. 

He said nothing, him mind clearly sorting through his confusion. Daenerys let him think for a moment before she stood, unsure if she was going to leave or begin to disrobe, but the action seemed to snap Jon out of his thoughts. He grabbed her wrist. “Stay,” he breathed out. “Stay with me, Dany.”

She saw the emotion in his eyes and it was so beautiful to see. She bent over to kiss him and this time, Jon took charge of the kiss, nearly bending her back in half with the force of his passion. Daenerys loved it. Their tongues found their way into the other’s mouths until eventually they both grew to want more than kissing. 

Daenerys pulled away and began to disrobe, and Jon watched, already half naked, as Daenerys could see again as he’d let the fur slip down, exposing him completely. Her eyes grew dark at the tent in his pants and she tried to think of something clever to say at the sight, but all she could come up with was, “It seems you are pleased with your gift.”

When she finished she bent down to kiss Jon again, but he grabbed her and rolled her beneath him in one fluid motion. The action took Daenerys’ breath away as did the cocky smirk he gave her as he responded, “You have no idea how pleased, Dany. Let me thank you properly.”

With that he made his way down her body with his touch and his lips. Daenerys gasped and sighed as his fingers played with the tips of her breasts, which turned to moans she had to bite down on her lips to contain as he exchanged fingers with his lips and tongue. 

He moved down further to Daenerys’ surprise, spreading her legs with his hands, which he caressed before he kissed her lower lips. Daenerys couldn’t contain the cry and Jon seemed to look at her with false admonishment and full of pride at his skill. “Quiet, princess, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up so they could see what a bastard can do to you.”

He ducked his head back down again before she could really process his words and then Daenerys had to cover her mouth with her hand and Jon’s pillow to stop her sounds of pleasure. He was magnificent, what Jon was doing to her was so pleasurable, Daenerys almost thought it couldn’t be real. It all seemed to be building to something, but Daenerys didn’t know what until something inside of her burst and the scream made muffled by the pillow still was audible. 

As she recaught her breath, Jon made his way back up her body with random kisses before he laid beside her. Daenerys hands went for his crotch, undoing the laces and reaching her hand inside to hold him. It was a first for her, though she’d seen a man’s member before (crude men were common in the streets of King’s Landing after all), but it still felt strange, both hard and soft. 

Still, Daenerys wanted it inside of her and rolled back onto her back, carefully bringing Jon with her. His nerves seemed to have returned again, and he asked, “We can stop, Dany. You’ve given me enough.”

“No, Jon, I want to give it all.” 

They kissed once more and then Jon thrusted into her, making Daenerys feel whole. It felt right, having him within her. Giving him her virginity.

Then he began to move and Daenerys’ thoughts were lost to pleasure.

* * *

Jon didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure he could be a member of the Night’s Watch now. Not now that he knew what he was missing. Gods, Daenerys threw everything he thought he knew into question. Jon had always thought Theon’s bragging was just another example of Theon’s stupidity, but with Daenerys it was more than anything Jon could have imagined. Surely more than anything Theon could afford with his whores. 

But he could never have her again. It wasn’t like princesses had many chances to spend time at the Wall or with a northern bastard. 

It didn’t help that the Wall and the Night’s Watch weren’t what he expected them to be. Jaime Lannister sneered with sarcastic barbs directed at everyone and most of the men weren’t the honorable castaways Jon had thought he’d meet, but thieves and other criminals here to escape a death sentence. Jon was one of the few here voluntarily and he finally understood what his uncle had been trying to warn him about.

Though he did enjoy it here on top of the Wall. It seemed peaceful as he looked out over the tundra before him. 

“It’s so cold up here.”

The voice startled him, which wasn’t a good thing this high up, but he turned and saw the princess, he found he didn’t care. He hadn’t seen much of Dany since they made it to the Wall. She’d spent most of her time with her uncle, as Jon had begun training. The one time he’d seen her she’d been walking arm-in-arm with her uncle in the courtyard, who looked so happy to be with her. A look Daenerys’ face held as well. 

“What do you expect? The Wall is the edge of the world.”

Daenerys hugged herself in a way to keep warm, as she said, “I don’t know what maps you’ve read Jon Snow but there is plenty of land beyond the Wall.” She looked out over the darkened landscape. “I wonder what’s out there.”

“Wildlings mostly, unless you want to believe the tales of monsters in the ice.”

“Some called the dragons monsters, but I’ve seen their skulls in the throne room.” Daenerys looked thoughtful, as she gazed into the distance.

Jon could watch Daenerys, study her beauty for the rest of his life and consider it well spent, but he knew that wasn’t to be and forced his eyes away from her. He needed to decide his future and forced himself back into reality, “When are you leaving?”

“In about a week or so,” Daenerys answered, still not looking at him. Jon felt his heart lurch at the news. So soon?

“If I don’t see you before then, I wish you safe travels,” Jon said.

Daenerys turned and looked at him. “You could come with us, you know.”

Jon scoffed. “I’m not fit to be a member of a royal party.”

“But perhaps you would be a fine knight. Lord Commander Lannister tells me you are by far his best recruit and your skill with a sword is near his own at your age. Jonothor claims you might be better, as Ser Jaime never was one to admit anyone could best him.”

Jon smiled at the brotherhood of men who served together. Even if Jaime Lannister was no longer a Kingsguard, he still remained a comrade of them. It was what made him hesitate to take up Daenerys’ offer. Sam needed him here, he knew. And he’d made friends with other recruits as well. Could he be so selfish to leave them for her?

Daenerys touched his arm, startling him once again, “If you’re talented with a sword and so determined to remain celibate, perhaps the Kingsguard would better suit you, Jon Snow.” 

Jon remembered what she had told him that night, which he considered the best of his life. That she would marry Renly Baratheon to conceal a child, but he would still be around her. She was raised to be royalty, raised not to be honorable but political. She might consider it fine to keep her lover as a Kingsguard and cuckolding her husband. Jon wasn’t so naive to think such things didn’t happen in royal courts, but did he want that life? 

Perhaps he was looking too deeply into her suggestion.

She looked at him, but Jon could read nothing in that violet gaze, only get lost in their depths. He really was a northern fool. He finally answered with, “I’m not so sure. Black is more my color than white.”

She laughed lightly. “Think on it. The royal family needs protection after all with Rhaenrys breaking her neck horseback riding and Aegon dying in the last sweating sickness. We wouldn’t want all the Targaryens to be lost now, would we?”

Jon looked to Daenerys’ belly. She may be growing a child right now. Their child. “No, the world would be a lesser place without dragons.”

Daenerys grinned and Jon felt his heart go aflame, consuming him with her fire, as though she were a dragon, even in this place of ice.

**Author's Note:**

> Some background information that wasn’t exactly spelled out in this story: Rhaegar’s coup worked and he merely fucked Lyanna at Harrenhal, didn’t crown her publicly. She secretly died in childbirth under Ned’s protection. Her father didn’t know but her brothers did. Brandon went down to King’s Landing to confront the prince but was killed en route. Ned didn’t think Rhaegar would harm the child, but he didn’t know what Aegon might do when grown, and the realm didn’t need another Blackfyre Rebellion. So he kept Jon a secret from everyone, claiming him for his own.
> 
> Also, later, when Daenerys gives birth to her silver-haired, violet eyed Targaryen daughter, she is shocked. Though it’s easily explained by the Baratheons having Targaryen blood, where did Jon get it from? 


End file.
